


The Chocolate Cake Problem

by VirginiasWolf



Series: Life Moves On [13]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Baking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Too horny for me to call it a cute story, but this is definitely a lighter one, cause unfortunately i have a super dark current events related story planned for sometime soon, so lightness first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Richard and Camille deal with the trials and triumphs of new marriage...and of trying to bake a cake.
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Series: Life Moves On [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456375
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The Chocolate Cake Problem

Richard wakes up with a sudden start to a hand on his shoulder. The last time he woke up this suddenly was accompanied by the intense pain of being stabbed in the chest by an ice-pick and it takes a second for his heart rate to return to normal as he instinctively looks for a threat.

  
This time he isn't met with the cold fear of fighting for his life. Instead, the first thing he is met with is a pair of warm brown eyes. "I'm sorry that I scared you Cherie. I thought you would be too stiff if I let you sleep here." Camille reaches out to stroke his cheek.

  
There's something so gentle about the touch that he immediately finds himself soothed. It's only been a few weeks since their wedding and he still can hardly believe that this remarkable woman has actually agreed to be with him. After a moment of silence he finally finds the words he wants to say. "Yes. Thank you for waking me up." Richard tries to stretch finding that his muscles are indeed already stiff.

  
"Do you want to help me in the kitchen?" Camille asks in a tone that is almost too sweet.

  
Realizing that he's apparently been woken up just so he can be thrust into an activity and possibly clean up a mess, and likely not actually because Camille was worried about his stiff muscles is a little irritating and Richard can't help but accidentally snap. "So you want me to help clean up a mess?!"

  
"No, I thought baking would be a nice couple's activity."

  
It would be, but surely he's now ruined it by snapping at her. Sometimes it feels like he is always doing something that marks how awkwardly different he is from her and only furthering the proof that he'll never be the perfect husband she deserves. "It would."

  
"But..." Camille must notice the disappointment in his voice. She's always been far better at reading bodies than he has.

  
"I hurt your feelings by snapping at you," he finishes certain that he's delivered a damning blow to her plans.

  
"After I scared you by waking you up too suddenly. We both made mistakes."

  
Mistakes. That word triggers something in Richard's mind. Maybe they are so different that their marriage will only be one of mistakes.

  
"Richard, don't you dare. I forbid you from going into one of your self-loathing spirals."

  
It almost chills him how easily she reads what his mind is doing, but she isn't trying to use it against him as someone else might. Unsure of what to say, Richard opens his mouth prepared to respond somehow, only to realize that Camille has managed to somehow maneuver so that she is behind him and is now pressing lightly at his back with both hands. "Camille, what are you...?!" A quick shove indicates to him that she wants him to move.

  
"C'mon, into the kitchen with you. I am going to force you to be a happy Richard."

  
There is something almost ridiculous about Camille using her aggressively passionate nature to try to force him to be happy. It's contradictory to say the least, but it does feel very Camille and this makes him smile. "Am I at least allowed to walk on my own?"

  
In the kitchen Richard finds ingredients and a recipe already sat out on the island. Some kind of chocolate dessert apparently.

  
"Maman's chocolate cake recipe," Camille responds to the question he hasn't yet asked. "You're going to love it."

  
Richard briefly considers asking if the cake is spicy, but he doesn't want to accidentally say something that will upset her because she seems to have turned back into her most giddy and playful self, the Camille that always made him feel somehow both the best and the worst when they were back on Saint Marie. He's always felt that this is the state in which he loves her most and finds her to be most beautiful, but before he'd learned that she loves him too, he'd always assumed that he wasn't supposed to see her in this way and so he'd also felt his worst too. 

  
Seeing her like this now only makes him feel his best though. It's only mid-September, but she is wearing jeans and an over-sized sweatshirt, bought from a nearby thrift store, as well as a headscarf almost like the ones he's seen her mother wearing. Not a look he would have once imagined for her, but it almost feels like home.

  
"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" She must have figured out that he was staring at her. She doesn't look angry though, and her eyes are still sparkling, and even a little flirtatious, so he doesn't feel the need to get defensive as he might normally in such a situation.

  
Instead, a brutish primal part of him secretly hopes that this will involve more than just baking. He loves just spending time with Camille and knowing she'll always be there for him, but he also doesn't see it as wrong to just want to be able to do very naughty things with her, even though a kitchen is a bit of a wildcard place for such.

  
For the first few minutes it does seem as if baking is going to be the only objective of the day, but just as Richard is about to force himself to think more innocent thoughts he feels a hand suddenly slap his behind.

  
"Camille, what are you doing?"

  
"I'm marking my territory." Camille holds up a flour covered hand and Richard realizes that he likely now has a flour hand print on the back of his jeans. Before he can think to further react in any form, she simply takes the bowl of mixed batter from his hands and retreats to another corner of the kitchen island before pulling the spoon out of the bowl and practically sucking the batter off of it, while making direct eye contact with him, in a way that is more than a little arousing. He's seen her suck on other things in that same fashion, including a part of his own body that is now throbbing in response to her antics.

  
Much to his own mortification, Richard finds himself responding in a way that doesn't feel very fitting for a proper British gentleman, such as he considers himself to be. Instead of responding intelligently, he finds himself letting out a deep, almost feral growl. 

  
He knows she is aware of exactly what she is doing to him, because after a second she puts the spoon back in the bowl and states, far too innocently, "No time for distractions. The cake needs to go into the oven right now," before resuming the normal baking process as if she hasn't just left her husband a completely aroused mess. 

  
While Richard is standing completely dumbfounded, Camille manages to get the batter into the cake pan and place it inside the oven. That's when she turns back to him, with what would feel like a complete mood change if he wasn't already aware that she has been purposely dangling herself in front of him the whole time. "Well, we shouldn't let the next fifteen minutes go to waste, should we? Maybe just marking my territory wasn't enough. I think I should claim it as well."

  
Richard isn't entirely sure what Camille expects to do in fifteen minutes, and this makes him a bit nervous. Of course he still wants to do things to her, but he doesn't think he quite has the stamina that would allow for them to start, finish, and redress in the time they have, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "You can't do that." When Camille almost looks a little hurt he adds, "I don't think we have the time."

  
Instead of outright responding, Camille climbs onto an empty spot on the kitchen island and sits with her legs spread apart. "Come here." After a moment of confusion she repeats her command and Richard finds himself uneasily moving to stand between her legs.

  
Before he has time to think, Camille's legs are encircling him, effectively trapping his body against hers, and her mouth has captured his. It takes him a second to realize that along with kissing him in a very passionate, very French fashion, she is also rubbing her groin against his. 

  
The entire situation is so deliciously arousing that Richard almost forgets that they are both fully clothed. In fact, he is almost convinced that he might just be able to find release when suddenly the oven timer goes off.

  
"Oh bother," he can't help but mutter bitterly as he is forced to move to allow Camille to retrieve the cake.

  
He can't help but find himself wanting to feel cross too, and maybe even a bit hateful towards the cake they have just baked. Suddenly Camille grabs his hand. "We have some unfinished business to take care of."

  
He isn't sure exactly how to feel when she leads him into the other room, back to the chair he had previously been napping in.

  
"Sit!" 

  
He instinctively wants to be a little afraid of the firmness behind her instruction, but once he has obeyed he suddenly realizes that his wife is currently taking off her jeans and underwear. She wants to have sex in the armchair in their living room, during the middle of the afternoon. Of course he wants her almost so much that he can't tolerate the arousal, but they've never done it before without protection, and that's upstairs.

  
"Condoms," he hears himself almost croak out.

  
"Shhh, I'm on the pill now, remember?" Her voice is strangely soothing and gentle even as she reaches for the zipper on his pants. The moment she has unzipped his pants and adjusted his boxers enough to free him, Camille kisses him with a surprising tenderness before straddling his lap.

  
Seconds later he is inside her and she lets out a soft gasp as he begins to thrust, slowly at first, and then quicker as he feels their bodies find a balance together.

  
Despite his best attempts, Richard lasts a far shorter amount of time than he is used to, and when Camille reaches her climax shortly after he does, he realizes she isn't as loud as she usually is. His assumption that he must have done something wrong is only further amplified by how seconds after he pulls out, she nestles against his chest and begins giggling.

  
"I'm sorry," he can't help but mutter.

  
Camille looks up at him almost confused. "Why are you apologizing?"

  
"Because I couldn't last as long as you needed me to, and I didn't satisfy you."

  
"But you did satisfy me," Camille states, "And we can practice until everything is perfect."

  
"But you started giggling when we finished," Richard can't help but argue.

  
"Oh I wasn't giggling because I found your performance funny. I was giggling because I was caught up in realizing that we get to spend the rest of our lives together."

  
"And that's funny?" Richard can't help but bristle. It certainly isn't a vote of confidence if his new wife finds being married to him to be hilarious.

  
Before he can sink too deeply into a funk, she responds, "No Cherie, it is wonderful. Each day I am going to be able to discover new things about you and fall even more in love."

  
"I'm afraid I'm not terribly interesting. What you see is what you get with me."

  
"And that is not remotely true. You are the most interesting man I have ever met."

  
Richard is prepared to argue, but then he realizes he'd rather just try to enjoy this moment with this crazy, beautiful, brilliant woman who has somehow elected to spend her life with him of all people, even if he can't possibly understand how she views him with such wonder.

  
After a moment of sitting in silence, Camille groans softly, causing Richard to yet again wonder if he's done something wrong. Luckily, she clarifies before he can even ask a question. "We have to make the icing for the cake and I don't want to put on pants again."

  
There is something ridiculously adorable about how petulant she sounds that makes Richard almost want to laugh. "Camille, you can't just prance around our flat half naked."

  
"Why not? We're not expecting visitors are we?" Camille suddenly climbs off his lap. "And I will put my underwear back on, Mr. English."

  
Before Richard can respond, she has managed to slip her panties back on and raced back towards the kitchen, giggling the whole time.

  
In marriage he's clearly given up any chance of having an afternoon of peace and quiet ever again. However, Richard decides that if it's laughter and love that replaces it, this is a sacrifice he is willing to make.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious about why I put Camille in a headscarf, look at the poster for Sara's film "Le poids des mensonges". Ignoring the fact that her hair is straightened in the poster you have to admit that Camille would look really pretty in that particular hairstyle and it would be an interesting London geared twist on her fashion tastes.


End file.
